


Daydream

by thinkinghardhardlythinking



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:47:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26877673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkinghardhardlythinking/pseuds/thinkinghardhardlythinking
Summary: Angsty, fluffy feelings between the reader and Sam Winchester
Relationships: Sam Winchester & You, Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You
Kudos: 18





	Daydream

Sam had spent the morning telling you about the Multiverse; all the other worlds with their own different ways of being. They sounded mostly awful. Apocalypse world, The Bad Place, the worlds without yellow or entirely populated by squirrels – but if they existed, you reasoned there must be other ones, ones that were good. And if they had found other versions of Bobby or Charlie, surely there were other ‘you’s out there too? Other ‘you’s, other Sam’s, other Dean’s. You wondered if they’d all found each other too, like you all had here, on this earth.

The thought had stayed with you all day.

Images and scenes from other lives that you now knew possibly existed, somewhere, out there.

They played in your mind like home movies of lives you hadn’t led. You were watching them even now, as you sat in the library, trying but failing to keep your concentration fixed on the words in the book in front you.

Instead of lore on subspecies of Rugaru, you were focused on a cabin in your mind and all the possibilities that other worlds might hold.

This cabin had been run down and barely functional but Sam, Dean and you had fixed it up, chopping down timber from the woods nearby and creating a home from it. They had looked sexy as hell with saws and tools and the sweat of the labour sheening them as they worked and then it had been done.

Rustic and simple but a home full of love.

You saw yourself as you woke early. Bird song and the sunlight seeping through the drapes, slowly rousing you from your peaceful sleep. You shuffled deeper into the strong, solid warmth of the large body curled around you as it shifted, unconscious instincts pulling you closer. Sam.

You started your day like you started every other here – warm, safe, loved, near him, with him. He kissed you on the side of your neck, tender but strong, just like he was.

“Mmmm, mornin’ baby…” came his voice, deep but soft.

You could see how the sun had tanned the skin on his arms as your eyes ran over them, wrapped lovingly around you, muscular and firm. You kissed the patch of skin nearest to you; warm, soft and beautifully smooth under your lips.

“Good mornin’.” You said back. And it was.

He went for a run as you made breakfast. He loved running through the trees and around the lake. He could see the beauty of nature as he felt it in the powerful movement of his body. You knew that because he had told you. Because here you talked about everything, long conversations that filled slowly unwinding stretches of days and nights with talk of thoughts and feelings; memories and dreams. He would share all of them with you, slowly revealing these precious parts of himself, newly discovered pieces of him that you cherished. And you did the same, because here you didn’t have to watch what you said or hide how you felt.

Here you could say whatever you wanted, whatever you felt, and not just with words. With smiles and expressions, gestures and looks – all unchecked, unmodified, free to pass between you, naturally and as they were.

And in touches too. Here you could touch him; run your hands over his skin, feel the contours of him, his body’s tight curves and his skin, and you could run your fingers through the thick, lustrous softness of his hair. You could do it casually and with affection or you could do it with desire raging like wildfire in your veins – however, and more importantly, whenever, felt right. And he could do it too; hold you close in comfort, place his arm around you with proud protective ease; move you powerfully against his body when his need for you was hot and hungry. All of it. And you could kiss here too. Sweet kisses in the kitchen, slow kisses in the afternoon sun, deep breathless kisses pushed up against walls and held down on the mattress you shared.

You walked together in the sun, your hand in his, naturally, where it belonged, because it was just what you did here. When the terrain got harder, muddy or uneven, his hand guided and helped and offered stability, adapting his strength and agility to be whatever you needed in the moment. Easy moves of intimacy and his constant loving care. Sometimes when it was really bad, he’d pick you up and throw you over his shoulder.

“Sam! Put me down! I’m perfectly capable!” You said, as he playful slapped your ass, your laughter ringing out throughout the trees.

“I know.” He replied, through a wide grin, “But how will you know what a big, strong man I am if I don’t carry you around every now and again?”

But you knew. You always knew.

You swam in the lake, carefree and happy, splashing and kissing and feeling the cool water change the feel of how your skin moved against his as you easily threw your arms around each other before racing each other to the jetty.

You let the sun dry you out after and Dean stopped by and you fished together, the three of you, sharing beers from a cooler and thoughts from your days. He lived so close, in a cabin of his own, that you never had to miss him. He still made awful puns and those jokes that you loved, the ones that made you groan and laugh and want to hug him, all at once. In the warm comfort between you all and the sunny glow of the afternoon, he told you and Sam about a girl he’d met and he looked happy. You were all happy here.

He stayed for dinner, cooking the fish he’d caught as you chopped vegetables and Sam set the table. Led Zeppelin may not have existed in this world but there was other music that he loved here, shockingly just as much, and that played as you ate, lit by candles with heartfelt relaxed laughter filling the air. Sam asked him if he wanted to stay for a while after dinner but he had a girl to see, he said.

“Bring her round tomorrow?” You asked, as he pulled you in for a big, warm goodnight hug.

“Sure thing.” He said, shooting you a wink and a wide smile as he left.

And then, on the porch, you sat, watching the sky get dark and reveal its multitude of dazzling stars, as you leaned back against Sam’s broad, powerful chest, his arms around you, fingers lazily trailing absentminded loving strokes across your arms.

“God, I love you.” He said, low and quiet against your ear as he gently squeezed you.

You turned your head to kiss him and nuzzle into his neck, taking in the smell of him - that Sam smell that felt like home. “Mmm, I love you too.” You said.

And on the porch, in that delicious, perfect moment, you talked about how lucky you were to have found each other, to love each other, to live this way.

“I can’t imagine a life without you, one where we aren’t together.” You said.

“I don’t want to.” He replied.

And then you spoke long into the night; wondering what Dean’s girl was like, excited to meet her tomorrow, about a trip you were going to take and all the things you would see on it, you laughed long and hard remembering other trips you’d taken and the funny little things that had happened on them. Memories and plans. Laughter and peace. Smiles and kisses.

No monsters, because they didn’t exist here in this world. He was safe and he was yours and there was no threat of demons or vampires or any other thing that wanted to hurt him here. He and Dean were free. You all were.

And when it got it colder, you went inside and up to bed. The kisses turning from sweet tenderness to urgent passion; lips and hands hungrily reaching for each other as your bodies rolled across the soft sheets of your bed.

“Y/N?”…..”Y/N?!” came a startling deep voice, making you jump and forcefully ejecting you from your time in the cabin.

It was Dean and clearly he’d been trying to get your attention for a while.

“What? Sorry.” You said, trying to shake yourself free from your daydream of this other world; one you hoped fiercely really did exist somewhere in the sprawling vastness of metaphysics that you didn’t understand and a life that you achingly wished that you could live.

He looked concerned and exasperated, brows drawn as he leaned against the desk.

“Pepperoni Meat Blasters?” He asked.

Oh, right. Yes, pizza and ‘The Lost Boys’. You’d talked about it earlier.

“Yes. Great. I’ll come with you to pick ‘em up.” You said, standing up. You needed to shake off this dreamy fugue state that you’d been in all day. Sam was your friend and you really shouldn’t think about him like that, you thought. You might have longed for the world you’d been dreaming about but this one wasn’t so bad you thought, grabbing your jacket from the back of the chair. There was a lot to be said for movie night with the boys. Dean got so excited, his joy was contagious, and you and Sam always stayed up after talking about whatever you’d watched. 

You turned to face him now, sat on the other side of the table, eyes scanning the screen of his laptop. “Hey buddy, you want anything else?” You asked, him as he looked up.

He smiled at you and shook his head. “Don’t let him get liquorice.” He said, disgust registering on his face as he shuddered.

“Hey….don’t start with that shit. There will be liquorice. And pie. And popcorn.” Dean said.

“And Kiefer Sutherland playing an eighties vampire.” You said, following him out.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sam watched her as she left. He heard her voice get distant as she spoke to Dean on their way out of the bunker.

He took a deep breath. She’d been quiet today, he hoped she was OK. He’d looked up earlier and she’d been lost in her own little world. The book under her fingers showing the same page as it had the last time he’d looked. He would have asked how she was but she looked so happy, he didn’t want to interrupt whatever was going on in her head. People were allowed to have their own little dream worlds, he thought, and to keep them to themselves. The way he had his and wouldn’t want her to know.

She was his friend and he loved it that she had moved in here with them. How lucky he was that he got to spend his time with his asshat of a brother, he thought smiling affectionately, and with her?

He’d watched her as she stayed lost in her thoughts, gentle smile playing on her lips, and found himself wishing things were different though. Not a lot, just in some ways. Small ways.

If he could kiss those lips, perhaps. That would be nice, he thought, imagining pulling her close to him and being able to put his arms around her, to be able to look deeply into her eyes without having to steal glances at them when he thought she wasn’t looking. To run his hand up her back and let it run through her hair as he brought his lips to hers.

When he’d seen her in the kitchen at breakfast and he’d wanted to come up behind her, to scoop her towards him with one arm while his other hand settled in the curve of her waist. For things to be different enough that he could kiss her on that stretch of skin on the side of her neck that always looked so soft, that he couldn’t help imagining trailing a path of kisses across, and say ‘Good Morning’ and call her something sweet and affectionate. Honey? Sweetheart? Baby? Whatever it was, something she liked, that meant she was his and he loved her. Instead he’d smiled and nodded on his way to get himself coffee.

When she had sat down across from him with her cereal she’d asked him some questions about vampires, she’d been reading about them yesterday, and that had led to talk of what happened if vamps didn’t feed and what it did to them which led to a conversation about Apocalypse World which started a whole thing about interdimensional travel and other worlds. She’d been fascinated, eyes all wide with curiosity, excitedly asking question after question. She’d been so cute and he’d enjoyed being able to tell her all that he knew, all the things he’d seen or heard of. He always loved talking to her. But sometimes….sometimes he wished that they could talk about other things…

He sat back in his chair, in the library, and without meaning to found himself imagining that they were lying in his bed. Her head on his chest as she lay in his arms, he ran his fingers over the soft skin of her arms in lazy circles. Here they could talk about things other than lore and monsters, she could tell him all her stories, all her thoughts, and he could ask her all the things he wondered about but felt might be inappropriate to ask.

She told him about her first crush, her first kiss, the boys who broke her heart and he lifted her face to his and kissed her.

“They sound like dicks,” He said, “I hate that they hurt you but I gotta be honest, I’m glad it didn’t work out because now you’re mine and I’m gonna make you so happy…as happy as you make me.”

And he meant it. Because if they found themselves lying there like that, if he actually got the chance to be with her, really be with her, that’s all he’d want to do. Just make her happy and be the reason for her beautiful smile. And if he got her, he’d never let her go.

He could almost taste her as he imagined their kiss and he way he’d roll himself over her, feeling her beneath him as they moved.

In his mind, he heard himself tell her that he loved her and more importantly, he heard her say it back. The surge that even the thought of it caused in his chest felt powerful as he shifted in his seat, clearing his throat before shaking his head to try and forcibly dislodge the thought of him making her breath hitch in her throat and her calling out his name, from his mind. She was his friend, he really shouldn’t think about her like that.

He was glad they were going to be watching ‘The Lost Boys’, he’d seen it so many times before. He didn’t see any of the movie last week because he’d been preoccupied by the vivid mental projections running on a loop in his mind. They were mostly just of them together, doing normal things…holding hands around the grocery store, a meal out in a restaurant – nothing crazy, but he’d been able to touch her and tell her how he felt. Then he’d imagined taking her away to Donna’s cabin, she’d like it there, he’d thought and once he hit that rich seam, he’d been lost.

He already knew that the movies that played in his head, unbidden, would be all he’d see that evening. And although, he wanted to enjoy watching the young Corey’s, both Feldman and Haim, take on the vampires of Santa Monica, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to. At least he knew it well enough that when she’d talk to him about it after, the way she always did, he’d be able to discuss his thoughts about it, even if he couldn’t tell her about the visions that endlessly played in his head, the ones starring her. Always starring her.

And they’d stay up late talking and he’d make her laugh, he loved making her laugh. It wasn’t the same as his daydreams but it was something, he thought. She was really something.


End file.
